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Poetry 89

Nomi Stone: What is Growing in these Woods

June 12, 2014 by PBQ

Green in here, gleaming like being inside a fable but with stalls of fruit you can’t eat. To go home, leave crumbs. When the wood circles you back here instead, let the lost and the impossible ripen in you, ripen and go.

Filed Under: Contributors 89, Issue 89, Poetry, Poetry 89 Tagged With: Contributors 89, Nomi Stone, Poetry, Poetry 89

Nomi Stone: Wound Kit

June 12, 2014 by PBQ

Simulaids Deluxe Casualty Simulation Kit: $760.00 Stick-on Wounds, Eyeball (900), Foreign body protrusion (901), Eviscerated intestines (902), Large laceration 5 cm (903), Medium laceration 3 cm (904), Small laceration 1 cm (905), Compound fractured tibia (906), Small sepsis wound (909), Large sepsis wound (910), Avulsion 3 x 5 cm (911), Major avulsion 8 x 5 cm (912), Crushed foot […]

Filed Under: Contributors 89, Issue 89, Poetry, Poetry 89 Tagged With: Contributors 89, Nomi Stone, Poetry, Poetry 89

Nomi Stone: War Game, America

June 12, 2014 by PBQ

The war scenario has: [vegetables stalls], [roaming animals], and [people] in it. The people speak the language of the country we are trying to make into a kinder country. Some of the people over there are good others evil others circumstantially bad some only want cash some just want their family to not die. The […]

Filed Under: Contributors 89, Issue 89, Poetry, Poetry 89 Tagged With: Contributors 89, Nomi Stone, Poetry, Poetry 89

Soren Stockman: Suddenly

June 12, 2014 by PBQ

Suddenly God is invisible and tells me to rule you. Yes, ok. The hero and the blood he carries. I’ve stayed in my room while my city floats into another city like cells multiplying. Love is mine, love’s debt is to me.

Filed Under: Contributors 89, Issue 89, Poetry, Poetry 89 Tagged With: Contributors 89, Poetry, Poetry 89, Soren Stockman

Soren Stockman: Sound

June 12, 2014 by PBQ

Going without is the key to returning. Water smacks the glass and fills, the friction when I rub my sleeve up my arm. Of course, birds. Myself swallowing, and the refreshing ah after. Sinking into new sand. The cup put down on the table. Breathing. Still imagining the yellow moth’s wings lightly on air. Burning. […]

Filed Under: Contributors 89, Issue 89, Poetry, Poetry 89 Tagged With: Contributors 89, Poetry, Poetry 89, Soren Stockman

Janet Marie Sola: The Children

June 12, 2014 by PBQ

“Be careful,” says the guide, “be careful of the children.” I can hear their tiny fingers drumming against the hot metal of the car door. I can hear their child voices singing, “please madam, come out madam, madamadamadamadadamadamadamadama.” I push open the door against the weight of their bodies, and step into the sun. Then […]

Filed Under: Contributors 89, Issue 89, Poetry, Poetry 89 Tagged With: Contributors 89, Janet Marie Sola, Poetry, Poetry 89

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